What Happened in '02
What Happened in '02 thoughts stories
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messedupmouth
messedupmouth Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   6 months ago
A phenomena that isn't complex enough to be an epiphany: An Exaggeration of Sad Truths, Pt. 1
This is more for myself than for anyone else. I just get so sick of seeing blank computer screens like they're empty, white sheets of paper.

What Happened in '02

AUTUMN 2019

Every

I guess I don't really know anymore. I have a headache, and I'm tired of writing. I'm tired of writing about things I don't understand or haven't experienced.

I'm just tired and I really don't know anymore.

Signs

Sometimes I don't wear my seatbelt. Sometimes I bite my lips until they look bloody and nearly dismembered. Sometimes I grip my steering wheel and think about what it would be like to crash.

My hands flinch, so close to losing control.

Since Always

I'm worried that I'll never be great at anything.

I'm good at things, like art and music, but I don't think someone will ever look at me, look at the things I've created, and think, "That's really amazing."

I'm afraid that I'll never be someone worth being.

Today and Yesterday and the Day Before That

I'm really tired of wishing.

WINTER 2020

Wishing for Peterpaulandmary

I think I might be. I don't know. Accident prone? But with life. I don't think I make mistakes all the time, and I don't think people just hate me.

Bad things tend to happen, and a lot of it happens to be around me or to me.

In the past, I admit that most, if not all, of my demise was due to my own decision making. But now, I don't know, it just seems like things happen.

I think I'm doing good, doing the right thing, but then it all falls apart. Maybe I'll realize why I'm so unlucky when I'm older. Something I've been doing wrong all this time.

This last shred of hope I had, Evan--I mean, it's gone. He's gone, sort of, and I'm so. Angry, I think. Not at him. Not really at myself. Just at how everything is.

I know the world isn't naturally fair--I hear it from my dad every other day--but everything not working out is so frustrating.

It's all this fucking time. I have to wait for so fucking long for good things to happen, and I'm so angry. I don't mean I have a terrible life--that's far from the truth.

But every inch I move forward, I take another three feet back.

Treatment to

College to

Homeschool to

Sitting alone

I don't think I'll live like this forever. Well, maybe I do. I'm scared I will. I'm scared I'll never understand relationships and end up alone. Like this.

Like

Year after

Year after

Year after

Fucking year

I'm so angry, and I'm so fucking sick of this.

The Disguise of Fate and U2

I haven't told anyone about the August Tragedy since Aleana. We were in her boyfriend's mobile home, and I told her the story while we lied on his couch in the living room.

She didn't really say anything, and I didn't really feel anything. I felt like I was telling her about how my day was rather than how my whole life almost ended.

Johnathon brought it up the other night. I was upset. I locked the door. When he asked me to open it, we had a long conversation about not having friends and being alone. I was crying horribly.

At the end, he said, "But you can't--you can't lock the door... you may be traumatized about what you did to yourself, but I'm traumatized from finding you.

" A surge of fear and absolute terror shot through my entire body, and I immediately started to sob. He looked like he was crying too, but he hugged me so I couldn't tell. He probably wasn't.

But it hurt more to think that he was.

I almost told Jeffery afterward. I couldn't stop replaying the August Tragedy over and over again, and I wasn't sure how to alleviate my feelings. I texted him. I cried.

But in the end, I couldn't tell him. I was close, but I said I'd wait until we could talk in person. He said that it was fine. "It can be today, it can be tomorrow, it can be 5 years from now.

Take your time," he said.

I think I like him. Maybe. He's not my type, which bothers me, but I understand that that's disgustingly shallow. That aside, he's funny. Really, stupidly, disgustingly funny. And kind.

I thought he was a "minor character" when I first met him, like he wasn't ever going to be significant in my life, but he's one of the most genuine people I've ever met.

Someone who doesn't keep needless secrets. Someone who smiles when you need them to and rubs your back when you get into a car accident. (Yes, that happened.

Yes, I got my ass handed to me by my parents.)

We talk a lot. More than the other friends I've met. I should be closer to the girl, Star, but she's not exactly someone I can tolerate on a regular basis.

(I'm doing that thing again.)

Anyway. I don't know if I like him romantically, or if I just cherish him as a friend. I think I'll probably love him someday. I don't know what kind of love but some sort.

I don't know what he thinks of me. I think I like him.

I hope someday I'll love him.

The Disguise of Fate and U2

I haven't told anyone about the August Tragedy since Aleana. We were in her boyfriend's mobile home, and I told her the story while we lied on his couch in the living room.

She didn't really say anything, and I didn't really feel anything. I felt like I was telling her about how my day was rather than how my whole life almost ended.

Johnathon brought it up the other night. I was upset. I locked the door. When he asked me to open it, we had a long conversation about not having friends and being alone. I was crying horribly.

At the end, he said, "But you can't--you can't lock the door... you may be traumatized about what you did to yourself, but I'm traumatized from finding you.

" A surge of fear and absolute terror shot through my entire body, and I immediately started to sob. He looked like he was crying too, but he hugged me so I couldn't tell. He probably wasn't.

But it hurt more to think that he was.

I almost told Jeffery afterward. I couldn't stop replaying the August Tragedy over and over again, and I wasn't sure how to alleviate my feelings. I texted him. I cried.

But in the end, I couldn't tell him. I was close, but I said I'd wait until we could talk in person. He said that it was fine. "It can be today, it can be tomorrow, it can be 5 years from now.

Take your time," he said.

I think I like him. Maybe. He's not my type, which bothers me, but I understand that that's disgustingly shallow. That aside, he's funny. Really, stupidly, disgustingly funny. And kind.

I thought he was a "minor character" when I first met him, like he wasn't ever going to be significant in my life, but he's one of the most genuine people I've ever met.

Someone who doesn't keep needless secrets. Someone who smiles when you need them to and rubs your back when you get into a car accident. (Yes, that happened.

Yes, I got my ass handed to me by my parents.)

We talk a lot. More than the other friends I've met. I should be closer to the girl, Star, but she's not exactly someone I can tolerate on a regular basis.

(I'm doing that thing again.)

Anyway. I don't know if I like him romantically, or if I just cherish him as a friend. I think I'll probably love him someday. I don't know what kind of love but some sort.

I don't know what he thinks of me. I think I like him.

I hope someday I'll love him.

Blame

I don't know. Maybe I'm trying to fill in the gaps. Maybe I'm trying to forget her. Maybe I can't.

They're nice to me. Call me beautiful. Want to hang out with me. I believe some of them, others seem more desperate beneath their confidence and blunt statements.

I don't really know where I'm going with this. It's not May yet; I won't be able to see them. And how many is "them"? Three, four? Ten, to be exact.

Most of them are boys, which is weird. Lesbian? Bi? I think I'm bi. Why can't I just choose a sexuality? I think I just like people for people. Not that it's really important anyway.

I feel gross. I feel like I'm desperate. And maybe I am, and I'm just trying to convince myself I'm not. I'm not doing anything bad. I don't think. I'm just lonely, as always.

But I keep

Fucking things up.

Silent Thoughts from Thinker

There are some feelings that need to be a secret. For me, they're the things that make me cry. Certain things. Like the back and forth of time that my brain doesn't think exists.

Or at least, it didn't.

When I get sick, I just assume I forgot that things were bad. Like that two months when everything was okay was a small dose of temporary happiness.

I don't think I'm sick right now. Not like I used to be. But it hasn't been like that in a long time. Back then it was like my life was a movie.

Like I was watching myself in a way that I couldn't interpret. Like I couldn't read my own mind.

Sometimes I would get really quiet, and I'd tell them, "I think this is me." No one liked it when I did that. Because I wasn't like that. I was loud and angry and egotistical.

Sometimes I still think that, though. That I'm different from what I portray. It's this constant,

I didn't mean to say that.

I'm sorry.

I know I'm messed up.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

that no one can hear.

These are the things that need to be a secret. Not just because people don't understand, but they don't care.

No one wants to hear me struggle to explain how complicated I feel, how different I feel all the time.

The part that truly scares me is that there's a chance I'm not different. That there's a chance someone feels just like me. And I don't know why. Maybe it makes it easier to push people away.

Because

They'll never understand me.

But what's the point of being different when no one even knows who you are?

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